Harry Potter and the Princess of Thieves old
by EnvidiaEmerald
Summary: I decided to repost this story, it's gonna be the same plot, just improved.
1. Chapter 1

**1: True As Ever (Part I)**

I have never been the kind of beauty that turns heads nor have I ever been particularly sweet of nature. In fact, for most of my life, I have been a mean grouch with a poor attitude. Indeed, my vices are many, however (if I may say so myself), I am interesting. Unlike most of the dreary wretches out there I am interesting and I am good at what I do.

So, what is that that I do, you ask?

Well, Trista Jade Deveroux, master- thief and bandit extraordinaire, at your service!

Now you must be wondering who I am and why ever did I choose thievery to make a living. Well, let me indulge your curiosity and share the details of my life.

I suppose I ought to begin with who my grandparents were, or rather who my mother's mother was. The lot of you have probably heard of Count Dracula in some context or another, correct? Well, how many of you have heard of the undead queen, Carmilla?

She was the real Dracula, not that that Stoker character was inspired by her, no; her influence pertained mostly to the wizarding world (although I suspect she munched on more the a few Muggles). Anyway, she bore a child to one of the most dangerous wizards of the time, one Lord Mortimer Laverne. My paternal grandparents were ordinary wizards who were, of course, not enthusiastic about their precious, pure-blooded son marrying a half breed.

Be that as it may, Gabriel Deveroux chose Juliana Laverne for his bride and then, obviously came baby Trista.

Funny name they chose for me, isn't it?

Whatever.

As you may have deduced, granny Carmilla was not a very popular character and so, of course, neither was her offspring. Now, I do not pretend to know all the details of the story, seeing as I was merely an infant and all I have to go on is a letter from my mother which predates the actual occurrences.

Apparently, my parents had been on the run for a while and knew that their chasers were closing in on them so they made arrangements for me to hide at some couples house and were soon after killed.

Who chased them? Well, as I grew up I've heard more and more evidence pointing at the same direction, however I will elaborate on this subject later.

The couple that took me in, the Caraways, was never cruel or remissive towards me, but it was obvious that the only reason they took me in was the load of galleons my parents gave in return. I also believe, though they have never said so directly, that since they knew what I am and thus preferred to maintain a safe distance.

I can't really blame them for that, I suppose. Vampires, even quarter vampires, are quite intimidating, terrifying, and even.

In my defense though, I have never been blood thirsty; in fact, I seldom drink it at all. Of course if it's right in front of me…

Oh, and I've never feasted on human blood, ever.

But anyway, when I was eleven, like all other witches and wizards my age I was invited to join the ranks of Hogwarts. Seeing as I am nothing like others of my age and circumstance, I firmly declined the offer. I did so, not because I was some frail child who feared to become an outcast, but rather because I saw no use for it. I was, indeed, interested in magic, however I simply did not see myself tucked away at some boarding school, no. I would have been, literally, bored to death.

Despite having declined Hogwarts, the notion of leaving the Caraway residence became one I fancied. Delighted as I may have been at the thought of independence , I knew that it would not be easy for me to survive alone, and so for a while, I abandoned the idea completely...

On my thirteenth birthday, Mrs. Caraway decided it was appropriate to give me my mother's final letter.

For reasons of privacy and because it is, in parts, bloody sentimental, I will not display the letter. However, I will share with you that the letter could only be opened by me and contained information regarding my heirloom.

You see, my father's parents were excessively rich and though they wanted to disown him, they begrudgingly left their entire vast fortune to Gabe. Now, before their death, my parents hid all this money and some other possessions at a secret location, a house in the north of England.

After reading this, my dream of leaving the Caraway's was revived and I set off, at the dead of night, to find my freedom.


	2. Chapter 2

**2: True As Ever (II)**

So… where did I leave you off…?... ahh! I remember!

I had just left my guardians house to find my heirloom; what a pretentious word, heirloom… anyway,

I won't tire you with the details of my journey to that house I mentioned, because it was quite uneventful, boring, even.

On the outside, the house seemed quite shabby, as though no one had lived there four decades. There were dried up remnants of a garden, roof tiles loosing, faded blue paint… not exactly attractive.

However, to me, it seemed like heaven.

Again, it's not at though I'm this poor little orphan- charity case. I have never been abused, I was always well dressed and fed, but I suppose there is something in my nature that is… well, I consider myself a free spirit.

I must tell you though, once I got in, I was in for a surprise…

The interior of this place… wow! I mean, really, it was a bloody mansion!

I dropped my little bag in the middle of the hall and ran up the stairs to explore.

By the devil and all his minions, I love magic!

Each one of the twelve rooms was splendid, each bathroom more grand… and then I found the library; By George, what a collection! There were books on every subject ever written. I was totally L-O-V-I-N-G this place. And then, just I thought I couldn't possibly fall further in love with my new home, I reread the letter.

It said that in the house, _"Hidden under the rose bush"_, something important was waiting for me.

I dashed out of the library, tumbled down the stairs and ran to the…

Oh, cripes… there is no garden. Looking around me, all I saw were the crumbling, gray leftovers of what once was plant life. Fan- freaking-tastic, what am I supposed to now?

Well, nothing. I chose to leave it for the time being, it was a long journey and the exhaustion finally kicked in. So I took a bath and went to sleep, abandoning all thought about my important surprise.

A few days had gone by; I found the secret stash of money my parents had left me. If you're wondering why it was left in liquidated form rather then at Gringots, well, when you're being hounded you tend to become paranoid, or at least so I've conjectured. I used the money to buy some food from a local muggle grocery store, and spent most of my days reading at the library.

Unfortunately for me, all the magic in the textbooks required the use of a wand (which I never got) and ingredients I had no access to. I really wanted to but a wand, and I could even afford it, but there is no way I could do that and still stay under the radar. Damn.

One day, my luck changed. I discovered that the house had a hidden attic, and being the curious creature I am, I decided to explore. It was quite the classic, corny old, dusty attic, and if there is anything I hate, it's dust. Actually, I hate loads of things.

But anyway, among other things, I found a wooden chest. I remember carefully dusting it, uncovering a painting of (you guessed it) a rose bush.

Inside, I found my surprise.

_"Granddaughter Trista,_

_I ordered that this wand, made of ivy wood and my right fang, for you. _

_I trust you will use it well._

_CL."_

Grandma Carmilla, I never met you, but I bet you were bloody awesome.

Finally I had a wand to call my own and I can learn some applied magic. Brilliant.


End file.
